Injured more often
by FantasticallyFanatical
Summary: Cutesy Nick/Jess one-shot set during episode 1x15. 'There's a pause and he's almost sure he's going to do it. Just stand up and kiss her, right there on lips in front of everyone who means the most to the two of them.'


"Just tell me; if you could do anything, what would you do?" Her wide eyes with their piercing irises bore right into him and he doesn't know what the hell is growing in his throat right now but he's pretty certain his heart is growing in between his ears because all he can hear is it beating. _Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump._

There's a pause and he's almost sure he's going to do it. Just stand up and kiss her, right there on lips in front of everyone who means the most to the two of them. There's a spark building in the tips of his fingers and in the soles of his feet just urging him to do it and it takes all his strength and drunken power _not_ to. So he forces himself to look down at the table and ramble off something of a half truth, avoiding the intense stare from Cece that tells him that he should have just gone for it.

But before he knows it, he's on a beach, he's been naked and now he's drying under the moon with a beautiful girl beside him. If this growth on his neck means the end, it'll be moments like this that Nick is sure he'll revisit when the times get tough. But for now he's going to take his chances because one, he's drunk and that's the best excuse for everything and two, what's the point in revisiting and remembering the nights where all he did was sleep?

So that's why Nick finds himself telling Jess that he likes her. A _lot. _And that moment of looking into her smoky, watery eyes with her soft, sad smile makes telling her worth it – even if there's a possibility he won't remember it. The way her hair blows ever so gently with the ripple of the waves makes Nick realise he has never been more thankful for the moon, the tide, alcohol or Winston's car. And even if he (conveniently) forgets everything he's already said and everything he's about to do, he's absolutely sure the image of her face with be ingrained in his mind forever (or for as long as this _thing_ on his throat gives him.)

"I'm not going to remember any of this in the morning, am I?" He grins, the taste of alcohol beginning to get a little stale on his tongue and he knows it's now or never; he won't attempt this sober.

"Most certainly not," she smiles in return and they're both laughing and he swears (drunkenly and internally) that their harmony is one of the nicest sounds he's ever heard. The laughing slowly subsides and he tells her they should go home. She agrees with a nod and a smile but neither one of them moves, instead they remain seated in the sand with the waves threatening to lap at their toes any minute.

"I lied earlier," Nick mumbles and at first Jess doesn't hear him so he nudges her on the arm, beckoning her closer. She shifts towards him, knocking little grains of sand as she does. "I lied," he repeats "about what I would do if I could do anything."

Her tired eyes search his face for his intentions but he gives nothing away. She stuffs her hands back inside her boots and rests her head on her left shoulder so she's able to keep looking at him.

"I would do," he pauses, mostly due to nervousness but partially because of his drunkenness, "this."

"Do what?" Jess asks, brows knitting in confusion, eyes glistening under the ever dimming night light.

"This," Nick says, almost under his breath as his cold hands find their way to the sides of her cheeks, bringing her chapped lips to his in a merging of stale alcohol, salty sea water and the strawberry chap stick Jess is prone to wearing. In short, Nick thinks is as close as he'll get to magic under the moonlight.

It's Jess who breaks the kiss with a soft blush that's only just visible under the moon's gaze and she hums just gently under her breath, a cute smile tugging at her lips. She lets herself lie back on the sand and close her eyes but the smile never leaves her lips and Nick can't help but sigh contentedly as he follows suit and lies beside her. Just as his eyes begin to droop and shut, he feels a warmth spreading between his fingers and he doesn't need to open his eyes to know it's her fingers entwining with his.

Yep, if Nick's going to bow out of this world, this is exactly how he wants to go.

The next thing he's aware of is the sound of seagulls and as he comes to, he discovers that Jess is still curled up beside him. He peers over his shoulder at a slowly awakening Cece and Schmidt and as he struggles to piece the night back together, he contemplates asking them if they saw anything. But something in his gut tells him that if anything did happen, he ought to keep it to himself. He might not trust many things in this life but his instinct is one the very few exceptions.

He walks Jess back to the car with a new found need to protect her though his past experience of his drunken self tells Nick it's probably him who Jess needs protection from. But she seems as normal – or at least as Jess-like – as ever.

And suddenly he's got the all clear. Nick Miller is not bowing out of life, not yet anyway. And though he protests he hates relationships and people and life, he's never felt happier to just be _alive._ So that's why he gambles, as he climbs in beside her, ready to face the world once more.

"Hey Jess? What happened last night?" He only asks because the memory he's got (or more likely the memory he's created) seems beautifully unlikely.

"Nothing," comes the reply as her eyes take in all of his features but her smile comes a little too late for Nick to truly believe what she's saying. And that in turn makes him smile because if she's lying, then yes, there's a reason for it and maybe she hates him but hasn't the heart to tell him but maybe, just maybe, the memory he's got was real. That the kiss he keeps imagining was real.

So when he climbs out the vehicle, leaving Winston to accept the inevitable, he resists the urge to hold Jess' hand and settles to just walk alongside her. For now.

If the pain wasn't such a bitch to contend with, Nick would almost consider getting injured more often.


End file.
